Moral Compass

my compass is broken, she whispered 

you became north, 

he rolled onto his back, 

pulling her with him

for tonight you're my north too, 

his voice followed his hands down her spine

together we'll find our way back

to the map, to the true north

but for tonight, we are all we need

her hands caught on his buttons,

because we can't have what we want, 

she sighed, sometimes it's not even on the map;

so we make do with what we find

because our compasses break,

in the loneliness of the late night